


Getting It Right

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blowjobs, Dom/sub, Edging, M/M, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: Prompto stared down at the line of forks under his hand. They gleamed with the deceptive evil of a poisonous fish, all silvery elegance with pure malice at the core. He reached for one, heard a quiethmmfrom across the table, and tentatively grasped another.He held it as one would a bomb, and gingerly stuck it through the breaded skin of the fish on his plate."Interesting choice," said Ignis.Prompto wanted to scream.-------------------------------Ignis helps Prompto prepare for a formal dinner, and turns out to be a very exacting taskmaster. A fill for the kinkmeme!





	Getting It Right

Prompto stared down at the line of forks under his hand. They gleamed with the deceptive evil of a poisonous fish, all silvery elegance with pure malice at the core. He reached for one, heard a quiet _hmm_ from across the table, and tentatively grasped another.

He held it as one would a bomb, and gingerly stuck it through the breaded skin of the fish on his plate.

"Interesting choice," said Ignis.

Prompto wanted to scream.

It wasn't just the vibrator that buzzed through the thin fabric of his jeans, making the chair he sat on shudder and shake. It wasn't the vibrating panties, either, which were hiked up so close to his achingly hard erection that Prompto wanted to tear them off with his bare hands. It wasn't even the cock ring, though Prompto did want to have a few choice words with whoever created _that_ instrument of torture.

It was that, despite the fact that Prompto had spent the last three days squirming, wriggling, moaning and gasping through the most delicious and terrible dinners of his life, he was fine with this. He wanted to prove to Ignis, who had arranged these dinners in preparation for the annual Crownsguard memorial banquet, that he could do this properly. He could learn how to hold his knife right, he could learn how to address ten different types of military and noble titles, he could sit straight without squirming. He could be _good._

Gods, he wanted to be good.

So even though Prompto could call it all off at a word and Ignis would leave with only the slightest hint of disappointment, Prompto grit his teeth, tried not to grind his hips down on the vibrator, and took a bite of the fish.

It was amazing, of course.

"I wasn't aware that open-mouthed breathing was a common behavior at high-society dinners," Ignis said cooly, cutting into his own fish with a knife and a... a fork Prompto wasn't holding. Shit.

Prompto closed his mouth. Had he been panting again? He tried to breathe through his nose, slowly, forcing down the rush of heat that throbbed along the length of his cock.

By the end of the night, he'd made seventeen mistakes in total. Not that bad, considering the first few nights, but Prompto knew what Ignis would say even as he knelt for him, gasping in relief as the vibrator was finally removed.

"No coming tonight, I'm afraid," Ignis said. He carefully set the vibrator aside for cleaning, and Prompto nodded frantically. Ignis looked down at him archly and clicked his tongue against his teeth.

"Will you be able to follow that order unaided?" he asked. Prompto kept nodding for a moment, but he already knew the answer. Just last night he'd woken up on the brink of an orgasm, having rutted into the sheets in his sleep. He had to run for the shower and recite numbers to himself just to get it under control in time.

"No," he said.

Ignis sighed again, but not in true displeasure. He ran a hand over the back of Prompto's head, and the younger man shivered with need. "Alright, then. You can stay here tonight."

Prompto ended up staying the next night, too, and the next. Each time he started to rock against Ignis' thigh, or reach for himself with a whimpering moan, Ignis would hold him down with an arm like iron, and his quiet voice of command ran through him in an electric current. _Be good. Be good._ And when Prompto managed to breathe again, to ease the pressure without spilling over, Ignis would kiss him softly and murmur praises into his ear.

The next evening, Prompto whined twice, fidgeted fifteen times, dropped the sorbet spoon into his daggerquill soup, and folded his napkin improperly. Then, when he wouldn't stop wiggling and Ignis had adjusted the speed of the vibrator in response, Prompto groaned and leaned his head on the table, shaking with the effort of holding back his arousal. Ignis rose at that, and rubbed comforting circles into his back, asking if he wanted to stop in a voice that was thick with concern.

"No, no, no," Prompto gasped. "No, just. Show me how to do it right."

"Of course," Ignis said, and helped him sit up straight once more.

The vibrator never rose to that particular setting again.

On the night that Prompto only made five mistakes in total, Ignis smiled at him as though the sun had risen, and Prompto had to hurriedly press the heel of his hand to the base of his cock so as not to come then and there.

Finally, it happened. Prompto picked up the salad fork just after Ignis, who was pretending to be the king. He remembered every title, every greeting, how to hold his water glass and what to say to the server who brought the palate-cleansing dishes. His shoulders were straight and unmoving throughout, his hands were steady, and his smile was, despite the dampness of precome on his cotton slacks and the buzz of the vibrator against the chair, genuine. When he set his napkin in the correct place before rising from his chair at the end of the dinner, Ignis raised his slender hands in applause.

"Very well done, Prompto," he said. Prompto preened. "Now, I do believe a reward is in order."

And that's how Prompto ended up pressing Ignis to the wall of the advisor's bedroom, kissing him deep and wet and altogether without any sort of finesse, hands buried under Ignis' shirt. His lover made a pleased little sound against his mouth, and Prompto dropped to his knees with a heavy thud.

"You are a wonderful student, Prompto," Ignis said, as the blonde saw to peeling down his trousers and briefs. "Always such a quick learner. Attentive, _obedient..._ "

Prompto, his face flushed a deep pink, didn't know how to respond other than to press his lips over the head of Ignis' cock and swallow him down.

Ignis continued to lavish praise upon him, noting how naturally straight his posture was, the effortless charm in which he spoke, the sureness of his fingers as he reached for cutlery or dishes on the table. Eventually, Ignis' words sank into cut-off moans and gasps of, _How beautiful you are, Prompto, my Prompto..._ Fingers dug into his hair, holding without guiding him, trusting his skill.

"Come for me," he said, and Prompto pumped at his own cock with fumbling fingers. He came almost instantly, over a week of pent-up desire overwhelming his senses. He moaned around Ignis, and felt the warmth of his lover's own release fill him, at last, at last.

"So good, Prompto," Ignis whispered, petting his hair as Prompto pulled away. "You are always so good."

Prompto smiled, luxuriating in the security of his touch, and finally, truly believed him.


End file.
